Braids

Formerly called Neighborhood Council, this Calgary band moved to Montreal and changed their name to Braids, which is far more fitting. The name Braids invokes the girlie joy with which vocalist Raphaelle Standell-Preston toys and ultimately subverts via her light coo and sexually aggressive lyrics. The hairstyle also works with the elegant, controlled interlacing of the sounds key to the group's singular yet still familiar style. Standell-Preston's voice is the stuff of dream pop, while her guitar and that of Taylor Smith are art-rock. Katie Lee's keyboards recreate shoegaze's whirl, and drummer Austin Tufts is all over the place, moving the group from meandering Animal Collective-esque grooves to booming post-rock fervor, sonically mimicking the feel of a slow-growing emotional outburst.

Braids' gorgeous, idiosyncratic soundscapes don't really need a vocalist, and they could easily get away with some half-hearted chirper on the microphone. But Standell-Preston grounds these airy grooves in something very truthful and uncommon—matters of the heart that are neither indie pop oh-so-sensitive or rock 'n' roll fuck-and-run. They're a bit of both at once. "Plath Heart," the second track on this year's Native Speaker, begins to unpack the feminine darkness and emotional seriousness hiding inside these bubbly jams. Think of Braids as forever scoring an alternative soundtrack to Lars Von Trier's Antichrist, and they'll start to make sense. Or, just dance, and maybe they'll make sense, too. —Brandon Soderberg